Our mortgage re-financing came to a dead stop yet we are such an easy loan to process, a chicken could do it. We exceed all of the criteria to qualify, and our existing 30-year fixed mortgage is ten years old with the same bank we’ve been banking with since 1981. See what I mean? A chicken could do it. I realize that there’s a great shortage right now of loan processors and brokers and underwriters and vampires, but wouldn’t you think they would do the easy ones first? Let the good kids out of class early? My friends went elsewhere and they were in and through the process so fast I could not have finished my laundry in the same amount of time.
We applied on January 15th and were instantly approved. Everything was going along smoothly and we had a closing date of February 27th. On Monday, February 23rd the processing center stopped returning my calls. Our closing date was canceled without so much as a howdy-doo. The lock on our rate expired. I even called the manager of the people who weren’t returning my calls and she didn’t return my calls either. That same week we got a letter telling us that investors were changing the guidelines “materially” and if the bank couldn’t fund the loan by March 31st, they could not offer us the same deal. I was not amused. And I didn’t believe one word of it.
So I did what I usually do and went snooping around for information. I read the guidelines for Fannie Mae, Freddie, and Everybody Else and found that none of the upcoming changes were going to apply to us. Not only that, the guidelines wouldn’t be changing until April 4th and sometime in June, way past even a ninety day rate lock. I made some calls, surfed the net, pieced together the threads of information, wove the fabric of truth and went ballistic. When Jim came home I was wearing my red fleece.
“Red means DANGER,” he said, smiling.
“Yes it does dear, but not to you.”
“What happened?” he asked.
“The bank. I’ve already eaten two Dr. Midnights, this is my third. They canceled our closing date, the rate lock expired, and they are not returning my calls. Plus the letter – the first paragraph is a lie and the last paragraph is an implied threat.”
“Look, we can just forget it, blow it off, wait for another drop in rates.”
“No. Not now. Not ever. Not when they wont return my calls or have the decency to at least email me.” I reached into the bag of supremely chocolate Dr. Midnights.
“That’s number four. I’m going to go hide in my office.”
“You do that.”